


Because You're Cute

by WritingQuill



Series: (30) Days of Johnlock [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, First Kiss, Fluff, Humour, John has always been a tireless mother hen, Kissing, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day five: kissing</p><p>Sherlock invites John over to his house, and they have a nice meal, then...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because You're Cute

**Author's Note:**

> Another one, right on time today. I hope you enjoy this! Thanks for reading!

When the practice was over, John looked over to the stands where Sherlock sat, as always, absorbed in a book about some sort of esoteric topic John could probably not even begin to understand. He smiled at himself at the memories of Sherlock rolling his eyes at him when he couldn’t name all of the members of an obscure Hungarian drug gang from the 80s. 

‘Hey, ready to go?’ John asked, approaching his friend, who tore his eyes out of the book for a second to inspect John’s attire. 

‘I was waiting for you, so, yes, I am ready. Aren’t you going to shower?’ Sherlock asked, eyeing John’s mud-covered clothes. 

‘Nah, I’ll wash up at home…’ 

Sherlock seemed to fidget a bit, which was odd because he never fidgeted. John didn’t even know that it was possible for his genius friend to do that — he barely even ate and slept, so John had always thought of him as this majestic, unattainable cyborg. He wasn’t even clumsy, like most seventeen-year-olds were, even though he was incredibly lanky. John wondered how Sherlock managed not to trip and fall on those long legs. 

‘What?’ John asked. 

Sherlock sighed. ‘Well, with your parents away, I thought you might want to have dinner at my house. Can’t have you eating take-away all week…’ he said quietly. John chuckled. 

‘You care more about my eating habits than your own, have you noticed that?’ he commented with a smirk. Sherlock gave him a sideways smile. 

‘You do the same,’ Sherlock stated, and John nodded. 

‘Fine, I’ll go shower. Be back in twenty.’ With that he left for the lockers to shower and dress. 

*

Sherlock hardly ever ate, and he never really cared about what he ate, but his house always had the best food. Of course, that was not why John liked to go there. Not only did the place have great food, but it was also much better than his own house — one of the non-perks of being on scholarship was that most of his classmates’s families were much better-off than his own in terms of money, especially the Holmeses — and he could avoid his parents and sister there. The fact that he also got to spend time with his best friend was just a plus, really. Even if they never really did do what most “normal” teenagers did on hang-outs or sleepovers. Mostly John either read or studied while Sherlock performed experiments and read books that had nothing to do with what they were studying in school. They would talk occasionally, but John liked that they didn’t have to, that their friendship was comfortable enough that they didn’t feel the need to fill every moment of silence with banter or mindless conversation. Sherlock hated chit-chatting, anyway. 

On that particular day, they arrived at an empty house. It was well past seven and the servants had already retired for the night. Sherlock’s parents never seemed to be around during the week, so since it was a Thursday, John didn’t bother so much. He was glad Sherlock invited him over, because he hated to think of Sherlock all alone in such a big house. Sherlock already smoked — even if he hid it from John — and John was afraid of what also he might touch when bored. It was better to keep an eye on him. 

‘Hungry?’ asked John, walking over to the kitchen, followed by Sherlock. 

‘Not particularly, no,’ he replied, dumping his bag by the entrance of the kitchen to be picked up later. John scoffed. 

‘Well, tough, you’re eating anyway.’ He rummaged through the fridge to discover that the cook had left a bunch of stuff ready: a delicious-looking shepherd’s pie, some sort of fancy salad and home-made pineapple and strawberry jelly. ‘Oh, I could kiss Henri right now.’ 

‘Should I be concerned that you will elope with our cook, John?’ Sherlock asked, his voice filled with amusement and something else as he sat by the kitchen table. 

John mock-laughed and began taking out to food of the fridge to heat it up. ‘You could get plates and stuff,’ John suggested. 

With an eye-roll, Sherlock moved around the kitchen, picking up plates, cutlery and glasses, just as John put the salad and a pitcher of cashew apple juice on the table. 

Ten minutes later, with the pie heated up, and their glasses filled, both boys were stuffing their faces in silence. John smiled to himself as he watched Sherlock chase a pea around his plate with his forkful of pie. He giggled and Sherlock looked up. 

‘What?’ he asked. John smiled. 

‘Nothing, you’re being cute, that’s all.’ 

‘Cute,’ repeated Sherlock, and John swallowed. _Damn it,_ John thought, _I should not have said that_. He cleared his throat. 

‘Hm, yes.’ 

‘I am not cute! If anyone is cute here, it’s you!’ Sherlock protested, looking affronted, and John almost chocked on his pie. 

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘You heard me. With those jumpers of yours, and that soft voice, and teddy bear-like hair, and puppy eyes. Really, John. It’s like you’re consciously trying to be adorable. Sickening, really.’ 

John just stared at Sherlock for ages, mouth agape. Sherlock thought he was cute. Adorable, he had said. That was new information. Not unwelcome, information, mind you, for he had harboured a bit of a crush on his best friend for a few months now. So he just stared. Finally, Sherlock cracked and slammed his fork on the table. 

‘Will you stop impersonating a gold fish, John? It really isn’t that amusing,’ he said. John closed his mouth and swallowed again, but his throat was dry. Cute. Adorable. Right. Okay. 

‘You think I’m adorable, then,’ John said, barely keeping a grin from forming on his lips. Sherlock eyed him curiously. 

‘Anyone with an eye can see that, John, don’t be daft.’ 

‘Yes, but _you_ think that. You’re Sherlock Holmes. You don’t find things adorable. You find them interesting, fascinating, boring, tedious. Never cute or adorable, that’s too… pedestrian for you,’ John explained, feeling his face go red. God, how he wished he didn’t blush so easily. Sherlock was staring down at his plate though, as if the pattern the carrots were forming was particularly exquisite. ‘Well?’ 

With a sigh, Sherlock turned to John. ‘Fine. Yes, _I_ think _you’re_ adorable and I don’t see how that’s relevant. I also think you’re interesting and fascinating, neither boring nor tedious. I also think you’re brave, funny and nice,’ Sherlock rambled on, seemingly nervous, as he turned his face away from John to stare at the opposite wall. John smiled. ‘I don’t see how that’s relevant, though, because you’re my friend, so of course I care about you, and think you’re interesting and not at all like those other annoying people at school, bec—‘ he was stopped by John, who had decided to stop this whole thing and get down to business already. He placed a chaste kiss on Sherlock’s lips, and that shut him right up. He sat there, paralysed, eyes wide and unfocused. 

‘Sherlock?’ John was nervous now. Oh, God, he had ruined it. No, no, could he take it back? ‘Sherlock, I’m—‘ 

‘No, wait,’ Sherlock said, looking into John’s face, seeing everything. His features softened and he nodded. ‘Yes, okay. Good. Took you long enough to catch up,’ he tried to sound smug but his voice lacked the usual condescension, so John couldn’t help but to smile and nod. 

‘Yes, sorry about that.’ He then leaned in again and brought their mouths together. 

After a few minutes of just tasting each other’s mouths, feeling the new-ness of it all, shivering with the pleasure of these new feelings, they parted and just stared at each other’s eyes. 

‘How about we—‘ was going to suggest Sherlock, but John stopped him. 

‘Nope, finish your meal first,’ he winked, picking up his fork again. Sherlock groaned but obliged. 

There would be time for kissing later. A lot of time.


End file.
